


knife blade smile and dance

by Rethira



Category: Adolte and Adarte
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rethira/pseuds/Rethira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can feel the stones beneath his feet, and it feels real in a way his life hasn't before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	knife blade smile and dance

**Author's Note:**

> _Adolte and Adarte_ is a short one chapter manga by Nakamura Asumiko. It's quite dark in its own way, although it ends happily enough.

They sell the Crown Prince’s clothes; the fabric is rich and soft, and the merchant obviously can’t believe his good fortune. With the money from that, they buy different clothes, more suited to their new life. Adolte wants to sell the anklets and bangles he’s worn for years, but Adarte tells him not to.

“We can dance,” he breathes, and he takes the bangles from Adolte’s arms, and pulls him into a dance. They’re both barefoot, and Adolte can feel the stones beneath his feet, but it feels _real_ in a way the rest of his life hasn’t.

It doesn’t take long for them to become well known, and popular with it. Exotic dancers, the people call them, and Adarte laughs at it.

“We’re simple really,” he says, and his fingers tangle with Adolte’s and they dance in mirror image, the bangles and anklets providing the music they move to. People pay for them to dance, clamour for it, throw food and money and bribe them with drinks. Adarte whispers new dances into Adolte’s ear, and they dance closer and closer, until they’re breathing each other’s breath and the noise of the world beyond them fades away.

The people are silent when they stop. Adarte is smiling, his eyes knowing, and their fingers are entwined again. The only noise in the once loud tavern is their quiet breaths. And then Adarte turns away and bows with a flourish, his long hair draping elegantly over the floorboards before he asks if any would like to see them dance again. The noise rushes back in, but it is tempered now, each patron eager to see how else they two will dance, and when they finish, the barkeep promises them room and board for however long they wish.

Adolte starts it, like he’s started so little else.

He presses his mouth to Adarte’s collar, while they lie in the same bed, and when Adarte’s lips press against Adolte’s forehead he takes it as permission. They have the same clever fingers, the same eager hands, and Adarte is swift and sure in what he wants. Adolte fits his legs over Adarte’s hips, and he moans soft when Adarte fills him.

“We are pure no longer,” Adarte murmurs into Adolte’s skin, and Adolte has to wonder what purity is worth when you can have _this_.

The people call them exotic dancers still, but it’s tinged with something knowing and sure, and there are requests every so often. So many want them both in their bed, but each time Adarte will smile, his purple eyes crinkle, and he will shake his head _no_ , only to spin Adolte into their newest dance.

“Only me, brother,” Adarte says, when they breathe the same breath. “Only me.”

Adolte smiles a knife blade smile, and begins the dance again.


End file.
